All posts tagged disguise

You worry about us while I worry about you My wounds have mostly healed Yours, are still unfairly new

Still vulnerable, still susceptible, Still affected by so much Bruised around the edges Still tender to the touchMemories, there on the wall Reminders, flashing on the screen Taking you back to a hurt that never should have been Pictures and question marks Still images, still fresh Years of mixed emotions, rubbing against your flesh The occasions, the situations With family, with friends The sudden jolt to your system When some of your past attends Incessant and intrusive probing Concerned people, hassling you The pangs from a harsh reality, that may or may not be true
Occasional reminders,
that prick you like a pin
Sharp and pointed circumstance
Jabbing at your skin Rumours, and stories that swirl Of others, going through the same Open secrets and indiscretions The deflecting of the blame Sad and similar symptoms, that you reluctantly understand Taking you an unhealthy distance from the life that you had planned

You worry about us and I worry about you This is what I can see This is all I can do

There is pain that I recognize Sore spots, we have both got Other aches, I can understand
Worse ones, that I cannot
Nights, together in your home
Putting myself in your place
Hours, rapt deep in our conversation
Moments, spent lost in your face
The nuances of your smile
The emotions, found in your eyes
A shimmering well of melancholy
behind a wavering disguise
The sharp, cruel jabs of pain,
that stab your heart like a knife
The tears, that occupy my mind,
as we sit, surrounded by your life
Yet, there is no place I’d rather be
There with you, trying to comprehend
Distracting you and laughing with you
As your partner, as your friend
Taking you to a fun and happy now,
And sitting beside you there
Giving only me, and who I am,
In every minute that we share
Knowing, I have zero urge to sit
where someone else has sat
That I am one hundred percent yours
That I can promise you that
I have my steadfast morals
I have my own unique charms
I have this love for you,
and I have two strong arms

You worry about us I worry about you I promise you my honesty That is the most I can do

HATRED Hate came to town today dressed in white supremacy.
Neo-Nazi indignation,
Anti-Semitic ugliness, masked and marching, in a cavalcade of the obtuse. A mounted symbol of slavery deployed as a lightning rod.
A rusted relic, a reminder, as a spark for uncivil unrest. A statue of limitation, disguised as a pointed excuse.

Hate came to town waving a confederate flag. White bred nationalism, with automatic weapons, carrying the Klan torch, still lost in the dark. Unwilling and unable to see the light of today. From candles and smart phones to the pall of burning crosses. Taking America back, in Emancipation park.

Right-wing extremity for all the world to see. A car, used as a weapon, driven by intolerance. Four wheeled empowerment, the basest depths of cowardice. A century and a half of deep-seated contempt.
Hatred and ignorance,
a stark picture of America,
still in black and white. Tell me, please, what year is this?

Hate came to Charlottesville and the president was indifferent. Splitting thinning hairs, divided by his loyalties, shrugging off responsibility like a coward in the fray. Puny, meagre condemnation on a historical, immoral stage. Commander of the white alt-right, placing blame “on many sides”, simply walked out of the room on this dark and dire day.

BrusqueOpinions, for the ears of everybodyWords, of a mind for only oneYou talk and you talk a good gameWhen, actually, you have noneA misplaced sense of self-importanceConfident, to the point of delusion Constantly rubbing people the wrong wayA reality, wrapped inside an illusion

What colour is the sky in your world?Does the sun only shine when you’re in it?Is the planet lonely with just the one person?Does it only turn when you spin it?

An endless list of those you’ve alienatedAstounded, by your condescending toneAn ego, that pierces the thickest of skinDaggers, from a mind all your ownCommon denominator to many problemsDivisor, for those who cross your pathYou are 100% certain, and 90% wrongLittle remains, when you do the math

What colour is the sky in your world?Is it grey and spattered with dots?Do you ever get to see the sunlight?Is it overcast, clouded by your thoughts?

You ride in on your high horseGive the royal wave to all you passThose who don’t acknowledge youCan just kiss your royal assYou share a seat with your superiorityOblivious to the ooze that you spillSitting smugly beside your judgementIn a sticky puddle of your ill will

What colour is the sky in your world?Is it showering blood, instead of rain?Are you sheltered beneath your thin cover?Or drenched, in the red of your disdain?

It is by no means an overstatementYour demeanour is your disguise, your demiseWhenever you reveal your true selfIt’s like a storm, sweeping the skiesFrom the nasty depths of self-absorptionBlunt statements, soaked in the oddRevealed, one assumption at a timeFrom beneath your shallow façade

What colour is the sky in your world?Does anyone ever reach you there?Perhaps someone should tell you?Would you really even care?

The same stubborn scenario
The same view every night A silhouette, close to the edge A moth under the light The echo of my thoughts On infinite repeat A schizophrenic mind field Of two and a half feet
Turned one hundred and eighty In a blanketed cocoon A butterfly to a moth Under the light of the moon A stark and palpable silence An insurmountable rutUrges, kept at arm’s length Until my eyes flutter shut
Take me back to my museRelease me from this storm From the cold of my creation The bitter back to the warm From this tempest in a teapot These chilling winds of blame The frigid reality each night The moth back to the flame
An exasperating tug of war Across a span of diminished hope There has to be some solace Near the end of my rope
Nothing that I can do or say Changes, impervious to gain The collateral damage is done A consequence to the pain

So many months, eaten awayThe thin fabric of a ruse
Resentful of my own creationA moth disguised as a muse
Rose-coloured tunnel vision?
Wishful thinking all along? For the sanity of lost time It would help if I was wrong

Take me back to my muse Release me from this regretFrom the pall of uncertainty That hangs over me yet From the now back to the thenThe difference of day to nightTo open arms and an open mindTo a butterfly, in a better light